


Never forget the face of the person who is your last hope

by weissie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:37:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weissie/pseuds/weissie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A yumikuri fic based on the Hungergames, though I have to warn you it may not follow a very similar plot...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When I wake up the light coming from the window is shining directly into my eyes. I wrap my fingers in the cool, crisp sheets and let out a deep sigh. I somehow manage to lug myself out of bed, before heading out to find some food. The icy air cuts into the skin on my cheeks, and the frost covered grass crunches underneath my feet. Running across the field like this I felt like I could almost believe I was free, before I reached the top of the hill I was making my way up to see a long fence stretching from as far as I could see. This was my life. Trapped inside a compound, my survival completely dependent on one specific day of the year. 

Naturally my name was entered into the bowl of pickings too many times to count. I lived with only my father who spent the small amount of money we did have on alcohol. Not surprisingly, I learned to be independent from a young age, slipping away from peacekeepers, trading in the Hob, even squeezing under the fence to gather my own food. But today none of that mattered; everyone was subject to the odds of being entered in the games, the odds of being sent to their death. So this morning, I decided, I would treat the same way I treated every morning. 

The crowds of children huddled in the courtyard make me feel claustrophobic, I let the waves of people push me along with them, my name “Ymir” one of them takes my hand, “ouch” the world is a blur and I feel nervous inside. I tug at the murky green shirt I am wearing along with a pair of velvety corduroy pants as I make my way to stand next to the other girls of my age. All the other girls wear skirts and dresses, but I can’t bring myself to. Finally the crowd grows quiet and someone makes their way up onto the stage. My heart beats in my ears and I can only bring myself to listen when the woman standing ahead of everyone unravels the sliver of paper in her hands… “Reiner Braun” a strong boy of about seventeen steps forward, his face showing no emotion other than his eyes which bore through everything they fall on. My eyes catch the white of the next name being drawn and my attention is pulled back to the stage. I stop breathing “and for the girls...” blood rushes to my head “we have a… Ymir?” My heart drops… I can’t believe it. “Ymir.” Everyone turns to look at me and I am frozen, until a pair of peacekeepers uproot me from where I am standing. “No...” I say under my breath... my eyes trace the ground throughout the next events, I hear the muffled sound of the woman on stage, weak applause, doors opening, being pushed through them, and the slam of them closing, locking me in, behind me.

I have no one to say goodbye to, so am boarded onto the train within minutes, and then I am gone. A part of me tells myself I don’t care, I’m not missing out on anything from leaving, I had nothing... but I don’t want to die… I don’t want to be constrained, or forced into anything.


	2. Chapter 2

I stretch my fingers out across the silk linens of my bed, it is so smooth, yet almost icy. I have the blinds drawn over the windows of my cabin, after discovering the disturbing window features, which allow you to look out onto whatever scene you choose. Are they trying to make us feel miserable every chance they get? I mean who in their right mind would want to pretend they are back home when they have been torn away from it, probably forever.

The broadcast of the reapings plays in my room. I have already watched eleven other pairs of tributes being selected, this will be the last district. The screen pans its way across the center courtyard of district one, lush green lawns, paved patios, and crystal fountains spraying a fine mist of water into the warm evening air. The children gathered in the square do not look afraid or anxious, they all stand tall with their chests puffed out in their chiffon dresses and silk threaded suits with their eyes set on the host of their reaping. The podium set in the middle of the courtyard is lit and I watch as the host pulls out a small slip of paper from an elaborately engraved glass bowl, and calmly recites the name printed on it. Before she even has time to raise her head several young boys step forward, declaring their name and demanding to be entered in the games in place of the name on the slip of paper. 

I can’t help but feel the disgust rise and portray itself on my face, these children volunteering, fighting over a chance to participate in a life threatening game. They’re willing to throw their lives away in the hope that they could stand a chance of slaughtering all other participants and being crowned the victor.

Just as I'm about to look away I hear the female tribute being announced. Krista Reiss. In the corner of my eye I watch a small blond girl, no older than sixteen marches steadily up to the stage. She ignores the horde of volunteers who stepped out of the crowd. Once she reaches the podium she announces “I will accept no one to volunteer in my place, I will participate in the Hunger games.” With that the two participants are brought forward and the citizens of district two let up a chorus of cheers.

I stare, unable to drag my eyes away from the girl, she is so beautiful, and there is no way her small and dainty body could wield any kind of weapon, why would she sentence herself to such an ill fate, when so many others were willing to take her place, when she could live a far better life by staying? Something about her told me it was no act of ignorance… 

My thoughts are occupied with this girl, Krista Reiss as I drift asleep, listening to the monotonous cheering and celebratory noises coming from the broadcast in the Capitol, where the residents are just brimming with excitement for this year’s games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its another short one, Im so glad some people have actually taken some interest in my writing XD so yeah, hope you enjoy !

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever.. so... sorry for any mistakes of just not the best writing


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